


Unchained Melody

by aca_bechloe



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sendrick
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aca_bechloe/pseuds/aca_bechloe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brittany and Anna's relationship throughout the filming of Pitch Perfect and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hi, I'm Brittany.” 

Anna was cursed. She was sure of it. Not once, not fucking once had she ever left town without something going awry. Whether it be a screaming anti-christ of a child, or having continuous diarrhea on an eight hour flight, she was cursed. Sometimes she liked to sit and imagine a pimply, greasy hag of a witch, thrusting her Anna voodoo doll all over the place, screaming in its face and turning around the airplane voodoo doll due to weather. Because that was the only explanation. Voodoo. Witch-craft. There was no way that this was all a coincidence. No way. Someone was screwing her over. That or she attracted bad luck like light attracts bugs.

On this particular flight, it started before she even boarded the plane. Anna slept through her alarm, and arrived at her gate exactly three minutes before they started boarding. It seemed like a miracle, arriving just in time to get on her flight. But Anna knew better. Somehow, the God of travel had heard about her plan to buy snacks from the gift shop instead of eating, and made her late. Made her late so she would have to wait until they served food. Fucking hell. 

As she dashed through the tunnel leading to the plane, she raised her middle finger up. She knew for a fact that her mother would disapprove, probably even suggest a confession session, but she didn't care. She knew that if God existed, she'd probably be punished later for it. Maybe struck by lightning? Fingers crossed. 

Anna walked onto to the plane, unable to locate an open seat. It was free seating, which seemed like it could only result in positives, right? Wrong. She should have known. Nothing ever turned out for her, ever. She was a cursed traveler. 

When her eyes landed on the only available seat, she understood why it was available. Well, kind of available. 

It was a middle seat. Of course it was. All the victims in airplane horror movies have the middle seat. 

In the aisle seat, she saw a very, to put it politely, morbidly obese man, half of his supersize hanging over into her soon to be (whoopie!) seat. 

In the window seat, she saw a thin, boney blonde woman, her hair bound into a bun almost as tightly to her head as her skin to her body. She looked all business. Business and neglecting her children.

“Excuse me.” Anna said, the side of her thigh pushing into Mr. Gordo's belly fat. “Sorry!” she exclaimed, a girlish giggle escaping from her lips. When she'd passed the fat man, she basically threw herself into her seat, letting out a huff of air. Unfortunately, the relief was short lived. She felt her hips pressing into Mr. Gordo's oozing fat. At first glance, the prospect of having someone else's belly fat in her seat had seemed uncomfortable only for spacial issues. But now, feeling his warm blubber getting personal with her hip bone, she realized it wasn't just a lack of space that made this uncomfortable. 

She pulled her carry on up into her lap, and pulled out a piece of gum. Her ears were sensitive to changes in pressure, and she needed gum to help pop them. Not that gum helped much. She was a cursed traveler, remember. 

Unwrapping her gum, she turned her gaze to look out the window. She wanted to take off. The sooner they took off, the sooner she would be landing in Louisiana.

“Hi, I'm Anna.” she turned to the frosty blonde to her right. She was engrossed in some stupid Nora Jones book, but Anna figured it'd only be polite to introduce herself. 

“Catherine.” she replied shortly, her voice thick and condescending.

“Hi Catherine. What are you, uh . . . what's the word . . .” Anna's stomach groaned, loud and clear. Her cheeks burned. Catherine raised an eyebrow.

“Reading?”

“Yeah. That.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Read the cover. Are you retarded?” 

Anna was a little taken a back by her response. “I . . . no? I'm not?” 

“Was that a question or a statement?” 

“Uh-”

“Please, I'm trying to read.” The woman turned her body so that she was facing the window, back turned to Anna. 

Bitch. 

About thirty minutes into the flight, the flight attendant came around with the food cart. 

“Would you like anything, sir?” the flight attendant asked flatly. 

“Sir?” Anna laughed. She knew she looked twelve, but sir? 

“I'm sorry, miss, I wasn't talking to you.” she smiled sweetly, her lipstick only showcasing her cracked mouth. 

“No thank you.” Mr. Gordo replied. Probably for the best. Anna thought. 

“And for you, miss?” the flight attendant turned her attention to Anna. 

“Yeah. Can I get . . . a cheeseburger?” she had no idea what they served on flights, so cheeseburger seemed like a pretty safe option. 

The woman plunged her hand into her cart of wonders, pulling out a hamburger-colored rock wrapped in paper, and handed it to Anna. 

She had the temptation to smack it on her tray, to see if it was as hard as it looked. 

“And for you?” the flight attendant turned to Panties-Up-Her-Butt. 

“No.” she replied coldly, not even looking up from her book. 

“No . . .?” 

“Nothing for me, thank you.” 

The next 45 minutes consisted of Anna blowing on her half-thawed cheeseburger, occasionally whacking her stomach to get it to stop complaining. 

When Anna felt the urge to pee, she knew she was doomed. Mr. Gordo had taken it upon himself to fall asleep, heavily at that. She'd shaken him a few times, but he wouldn't move. 

Anna cursed under breath. With her luck, he was probably dead. 

Another hour into the flight, Anna was quite positive she would pee her pants, and her cheeseburger had thawed into a soggy mess. They'd announced that they were “beginning departure” about ten minutes ago, so there was only about another fifteen minutes of the flight. 

She stared up where she had a hunch God was laughing at her. 

“I'm sorry, okay?!” she muttered, digging her finger nails into her moist cheeseburger.

When the flight finally landed, Mr. Gorgo was still sleeping.

“Hey.” Anna tapped him lightly. She had the urge to check his pulse, even though he was clearly still breathing. 

She attempted to wake him again, this time shoving him. He gurgled sleepily, but did not wake. 

“Is he dead?” Panties-Up-Her-Butt asked her, clearly agitated. 

“I'm not sure.” 

Sure enough, after another firm shove, he was awake. 

“Flight landed.” Anna said coolly. Why did he have to wait until the last fucking second to wake up? 

Because she was a cursed traveler. Of course. 

After she'd exited the plane, she stopped by the bathroom. She wasn't sure how there was anything in her bladder, considering she hadn't eaten or drank anything in decades. 

When she pulled down her pants, she could've sworn the top of her head flew off. 

“Oh. My fucking. God.” she hissed, looking down at her blood-stained underwear. She lifted them up to find that the blood had soaked into her shorts. Anna couldn't help but laugh. 

She kept her head completely down until she reached her taxi. Didn't need any paparazzi photos of this little shenanigan.

When she was safely in her airport taxi, she let her head rest against the window, secretly hoping they'd crash. 

Anna was tired, exhausted even, when she finally got to the set of her training for Pitch Perfect. Which is why, over all the commotion, it was music to her ears when she first heard the words “Hi, I'm Brittany.” 

She had such a pretty voice. It was soothing, gentle, feminine. It was the kind of voice you'd want whispering in your ear, assurances that everything will be okay. Brittany Snow was a caring person. Anna knew that much about the girl before turning around to actually look at her. 

When she finally did look at the girl, she had to stop herself from laughing. Her blonde hair was braided to the side, tied with a flower hair band. She had on a top from Urban Outfitters, the same top Anna and her brother had been making fun of just weeks earlier. She had on a pair of jean shorts, spotted with intentional bleach stains. Anna had always hated jeans with bleach spots. Since when was it fashionable to be trashy? The girl finished her outfit with a pair of sandals. A pair of sandals, Anna guessed, that cost more than all of the clothes in her suitcase. She was surprised the blonde wasn't wearing a cross.

All in all, Brittany Snow was cliché as hell. 

Never-the-less, she smiled. A forced, awkward smile, yes. But a smile all the same. “Anna.” 

She wasn't sure if Brittany was the type of star that would go for a hand shake, so she kept her hands down by her side. Luckily, the blonde did the same. 

“I'm really excited to be doing this project.” she gushed. “ I think the script it genius, don't you? 

If Brittany was a Catchphrase category, “Blonde as hell” would be a pretty accurate description of the word. 

“Yeah.” she laughed uncomfortably. “Kay Cannon is a genius. She rights for 30 Rock.” 

The blonde titled her head to the side. “30 Rock?” 

Anna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Never mind.” 

For a minute, neither of them said anything. 

Anna cleared her throat. “Hey dude, do you have a tampon I could use? I didn't have money for one at the airport, so I used toilet paper. But that's getting pretty mushy if you know what I mean.” Anna silently cursed as the words left her mouth. She didn't know why she cared that she'd said something so grotesque, she did it all the time. It wasn't as if the blonde deserved anything more than she gave other people. 

Brittany grimaced, digging into her purse. She pulled out a tampon. 

“Uh, here you go.” 

“Thanks.” she grabbed the wrapped good and walked off towards the bathroom. 

As she closed the bathroom door behind her, she sighed. She doubted her and Brittany would be friends. Anyone who didn't know what 30 Rock was, wasn't for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

“Alright everybody, take ten.” 

Anna hated this. After the third hour of dance rehearsal, she was having doubts about doing the movie. After the seventh hour, she was positive she shouldn't have done the movie. 

Though she had taken lessons when she was younger, she wouldn't describe herself as a dancer. She liked to think of herself more as a couch potato. 

She turned around to grab her water bottle from her backpack. That's right. Backpack. They had said to bring a bag, but Anna saw herself as more of a 'backpack girl'. More room for snacks. 

“I forgot how much I loved dancing!” she didn't even need to look to know the source of the nuisance. 

“I forgot how long it's been since I've eaten vegetables.” Anna snorted. The blonde was driving her mad with all of her “I used to dance competitively!” and “This is such great exercise!” 

Didn't she understand that for some of them, this wasn't an ideal way to spend the day? 

Brittany giggled. “Oh come on, Anna. You've got to be at least a little pumped to get the dance together.” 

Anna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't that she hated the blonde. She was nice and all but . . . 

She was irritating. Overenthusiastic. And one of the most typical girls she'd ever met. She was the kind of girl Anna made fun of all the time. The artsy-fartsy hipster blonde with her Starbucks, Urban Outfitters and attempts to paint. She was the kind of girl that believed in Prince Charming and happy endings. Love for everything and everyone. 

Brittany Snow was bogus. Complete and utter cliché bogus. And yet Anna didn't have it in her to hate her. Even strongly dislike was pushing it. She was too innocent to hate. Also too stupid, it seemed. 

“Can't say I am.” Anna shrugged. She loved acting and singing. But dancing? Not so much. 

Brittany rolled her eyes. “Party pooper.”

“I'm not a party pooper. Girls don't poop.” 

Brittany laughed. Anna was starting to find that she was one of those people who found everything funny. And even things she didn't, the girl would still laugh. “Okay. Whatever.” 

By the end of the rehearsal, Anna was ready to die. Her feet were sore, and she was fairly certain she'd pulled every muscle in her body. Which was why she was so disgusted to hear “We should all go out for drinks.”

“We could do that.” the other Anna agreed. 

“I'm in.” Rebel declared. She heard murmurs of agreement from the rest of the girls. 

What the hell was going on?

Brittany turned to look at Anna. “You in?”

“Uh, you know what? Not today.”

“Why not?” Brittany whined. 

Anna shrugged. “I'm tired.” 

“Oh come on Anna! Just for a little bit!” the blonde pleaded. 

“Thanks, but I'd rather receive oral sex from a shark.” Not at all to her surprise, Brittany seemed taken aback. Anna could just see the wheels in her brain turning: Did she just say oral sex? We've only known each other for a day. And what a rude thing to say! O-M-G that rhymed! 

“Kay, sorry. I was just kidding. But I'm really tired, and would just rather sleep for the next decade or so, if that's okay with you.” 

Brittany smirked, grabbing her hand. “Okay, but that's not okay with me. We are taking you out whether you like it or not!” What the fuck was this, the Hills? 

“Fine.” she muttered. Who knows, maybe alcohol is a muscle lubricant. 

-xxx-

 

As it turns out, alcohol was a muscle lubricant. If you drank enough of it. 

After three shots of vodka, she still hadn't gotten up. She wasn't much of a “clubber” and certainly didn't plan on doing dancing of any kind. 

Brittany, however, was very obviously a clubber, and had been tearing up the dance floor since they got there. 

The blonde turned around and met Anna's eye, grinning goofily. 

When Brittany made her way over to where she was sitting, Anna smiled. “Hey tiny dancer.”

Brittany brought a hand up to her forehead to bat away the sweat currently dripping down her face. 

Brittany furrowed her eyebrows. “Why are you just sitting over here?” She was carrying a glass with some sort of pink liquid in it, and looked to be in much worse shape than Anna.

“I like booze.” she replied simply. The closer to the bar, the better.

“Well, are you at least having fun?” 

“Tons.” Anna retorted. 

“And to think, you weren't even gonna come.” she slurred. The younger girl looked like she was about to fall over, and it was making Anna nervous. 

“Hey, it's getting pretty late . . .” she started awkwardly. “Is someone driving you back to your hotel?” 

“Kelley was going to, but I think she's got other plans, if you know what I mean.” the blonde winked. Anna had a strong suspicion that her “other plans” involved waking up in someone else's bed. 

Anna sighed. Even though she herself was a little intoxicated, she couldn't let the blonde drive herself home, and she didn't trust her to call a cab. 

And besides, Anna wasn't that drunk. She could still drive a car. 

“I can drive you back to your hotel.” she offered. 

Brittany nodded. “Really? That would be so awesome.” Before she could even finished her sentence, Brittany broke out laughing. Over absolutely nothing. Anna wondered if she had any duct tape in her car.

“If you don't stop laughing, I'm going to kill you.” 

The girl looked over at her, feigning an apologetic frown, then started giggling again. Jesus Christ.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

“So, where's your hotel?” 

The drive so far hadn't been as horrible as Anna had anticipated. Brittany kept most of her drunk babbling to herself. And Anna kept the volume control of the radio to herself. It was on high. 

“I dunno” she giggled, obnoxiously drawing out the end of the word.

“Uh, do you have a boyfriend, or friend, or someone who could tell me where your hotel is?” Anna groaned. She was slowly beginning to lose her patience with this girl. 

“I have a boyfriend.” 

“Okay . . . what's his number- you know what, just give me your phone.” 

The blonde put her phone into the hand that wasn't on the wheel. 

“His name's Ryan.” 

Anna turned her attention to the tiny screen, flipping through Brittany's contacts. 

Rachel . . .Riley . . . Ryan. There we go. 

She pressed the contact name and held the phone up to her ear. She briefly wondered how much the fine would be for driving while drunk and talking on her phone. 

“Hey, you've reached duh duh duh: Ryan! Leave me a message and I may call you back.” His voice sounded just as obnoxious as the actual content of his voice mail. Obnoxious and probably an asshole. Brittany had great taste in men. 

“Okay, he's not picking up.” She growled. “Can you please just tell me what fucking hotel you're staying in?” 

“I can't remember right now, okay!” she looked like she was about to cry. Dear God. That's the last thing Anna needed. “Please stop yelling at me!”

“I'm not yelling at you Brittany. I'm just asking you where you're staying, okay?” Anna prodded gently.

“I'm sorry, I just . . . I don't know.” 

She didn't particularly want to bring the blonde home with her, number one because she was just renting out a small home which wasn't hers, and two, well, the blonde was God damn irritating. But she just didn't see what other choices she had. 

 

“Okay, that's fine. I'll just bring you back to my place.” As much as Anna tried to convince herself that this decision was made from the bottom of her heart, it was really because she was getting nervous about being on the road. 

 

“Really, oh Anna I thought you were mad at me! That's so nice of you.” Tears slid down her cheeks, taking chunks of mascara with it. 

Was this chick serious? 

 

“Oh it's . . . you know . . . nothing.” The comment only provoked more tears. 

“I'm sorry, sometimes I just get like this and I can't stop.” she explained, trying to wipe the tears. 

“That's cool. I just, uh, as long as you're okay . . .” Anna desperately tried to choke down the laugh creeping up her throat. Dear God, this girl was ridiculous! 

She kept her eyes glued to the road. If she got a DUI . . . she didn't even want to think about that. The paparazzi would go insane. She would be the new Lindsay Lohan. Oh God, what if she got taken off of the movie-

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. 

She turned to her right to see Brittany sporting an assortment of fluffy pink chunks on her thighs. It was pooling towards the middle of her thighs, but not onto her car. Thank God. 

Anna gasped. 

“Oh my fucking God. Okay. Okay. Shit. Shit! Keep that on your legs, do you understand me?” The blonde nodded frantically. 

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-” 

“I don't care if you meant to or not. Just keep it off my fucking car.” Anna hissed, clenching the steering wheel to keep herself from lunging at the girl. 

“Okay. Okay I-I will.” 

Anna released her hands from the wheel and reached over Brittany, keeping her arm above the vomit, to open the passenger compartment.

She stuck her hand inside the compartment. “Here. Sit on this.” Anna brought her hand back out, hoding a pile of papers and handing them to the blonde, not even thinking to check what they were. Probably bills. “There's, uh, a barf bag in there. If you need to throw up, throw up into that.” she said, pointing at the passenger compartment. 

The rest of the ride to Anna's was silent, besides Brittany's occasional vomiting into the paper barf bag. 

When Anna pulled up into the drive-way of her temporary home, she immediately stopped the car and jumped out. 

“Don't move!” she blurted as Brittany opened the passenger door. 

Anna ran over to Brittany's side of the car, and lifted the younger girl out. Taking care took care to keep the vomit from dripping onto her car, which unfortunately resulted in the substance instead mucking her shirt. Though she didn't mind all that much. She could just throw it in the laundry. Anna had never measured her washing machine before, but she was fairly certain she couldn't stick her car in it. 

She hated dealing with things like this, which is why she didn't like to party. Her television would never throw up in her car. 

Anna gagged as vomit slid off of Brittany's legs. 

“Ew.” she muttered, carrying the blonde to the side of her temporary home. Surprisingly, Brittany had refrained from laughing the entire time.

When she reached her destination, Anna set the girl down. Brittany tilted her head.

“What are you doing?” Brittany puzzled as the brunette prepared her clean-up solution. 

“One sec,” Anna responded, then turning around to face the blonde on the ground below her. “Hold still.” 

“Wait why-Oh my God!” she shrilled as Anna sprayed her with the hose. There was no way in hell Brittany was coming into her house, temporary or not, covered in vomit. 

The girl continued to squeal. “Oh my fucking God! Are you crazy?! This water if fucking freezing! Oh my God!” 

Anna ignored her until she was clean. Well, clean enough. 

“Alright, take off your clothes.” the brunette instructed. Brittany looked like she'd had enough. 

“You just sprayed me with your fucking hose and now you want me to strip?!” 

Anna rolled her eyes. “I'm not letting you into that house with wet clothes. So either you take them off or you sleep outside. Your choice.” 

Brittany glared, throwing the skimpy dress she had on over her head, and onto the cement surrounding the house. “There. Now can we please go inside?” 

As tempting as it was to leave her outside, Anna nodded. 

-xxx-

“Here, you can sleep on the futon.” Anna gestured towards the brown couch in her living room. “I'd offer to let you stay in my, well, kind of, my bed, but I want to sleep there, so . . . enjoy.” 

She'd given Brittany a pair of pajama pants and a faded Sex Pistols T-shirt to replace her other clothes.

“Oh come on Anna! Don't leave. Keep me company.” she slurred. Apparently the cold water hadn't sobered her up as much as Anna thought it had. 

“I'm tired.” she responded. Hadn't this girl already done enough?

“Oh come on Anna!” the blonde protested, twisting her face into a look of chagrin. 

I'm going to murder you. 

“No.” 

“But-”

“What would we even do?” Anna retorted. Why wouldn't this girl just give up?

“Well, I saw that you had Uno.” she said, directing Anna's attention to her coffee table. Sure enough, there was a pack of Uno playing cards, unopened. 

Anna was irritated, tired, and honestly clinging onto her last bit of sanity. But man did she love Uno. 

“Okay fine. One game. Then I'm done. Kapeesh?” Anna sat down on the floor, across from Brittany. 

Brittany nodded, sliding the undented cards out of their pack.

“Can you shuffle?” Anna asked. As much as she tried, she could not, for her life, shuffle cards. She'd tried internet tutorials, asking friends for help, eHow. Nothing worked. 

“Lemme show you how it's done.” The blonde smiled, splitting the deck in half. She placed her thumb on the edge of both piles, slightly bending her index finger into the center of the decks. Slowly, Brittany pulled her thumbs backward, releasing the deck. The cards slapped against each other, mixing and randomizing. 

“Is that all?” Anna smirked tauntingly. “I must say, that was pretty lame.”

“Hey! I'm not done yet!” Brittany insisted. She tapped the cards on the table, getting them to resemble one thick playing card. 

She put her hands together, and then-

Anna gasped. One second the cards were in her hands, the next they were flying through the air. Each one danced off her finger tips, streaming gently into her palm.

“What the-are you a magician?” 

Brittany directed her gaze at the ceiling then back down at Anna. “No, Anna. I am not a a magician.” 

“Liar. That wasn't human. The cards just like . . . witch craft. Witch craft is the only explanation.” 

She giggled. “It's called a card spring, silly. No 'witch crafting' involved.” 

“Are you sure there was no witch crafting involved? Because I'm pretty sure you have to sell your soul to Satan to learn something like that.” 

Brittany covered her face with her hands. “I'm the drunk one, not you!” 

Anna brought her hand up to her mouth in mock-shock. “And what do you mean by that?” 

“Witch craft!” Brittany blurted, then burst into a fit of laughter. Anna was quick to follow. 

After a few minutes, the laughter subsided, leaving the girls breathless and on the floor. 

“So where did you learn to do that?” 

“What?” 

“That card thing. Did you go to, like, an elite card shuffling camp or something?”

Brittany snorted. “No camp. Just Youtube. I could teach you if you want.”

Anna grinned. “I'd love that, though I must warn you, I'm not the best student.” 

“That's fine.” Brittany assured her, as if Anna had really been worried about not being a good student. 

As Brittany was straightening out the cards, Anna groaned. “Jesus Christ. This should not be happening.” 

Brittany sat up, her eyes rimmed with a hint of soberness, yet still engulfed in a look of complete and utter blithe in the pupil. “What shouldn't be happening?” 

Anna sighed. “You. In this house right now. Like dude, you threw up in my car because you were drunk. We shouldn't be having this conversation right now.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

Anna scoffed, about to come up with a snarky example of how it had to do with everything, but found she couldn't think of one. 

She shrugged, not meeting the blonde's eyes. 

“This is gonna suck in the morning.” Brittany concluded after a minute's silence.

Anna sighed. “Dude. Tell me about it. We have rehearsal tomorrow.” 

“Ew.”

And for the first time since she met her, Anna finally agreed with something Brittany had said.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last time I updated this I almost got eaten by a velociraptor so for that, I apologize. I promise I won't make it a habit of not updating. But anywho... thanks for reading!!!

Chapter 4

 

       “Good work today.”

 

       Singing, though not as bad as dancing, was not something Anna would typically like to spend her entire day doing. As much as she loved singing, it got pretty nauseating singing the same measure of the same God Damned song for an entire. Fucking. Day.

 

       But lucky for her, Brittany had conveniently seated herself right next Anna. So throughout the day of rehearsal, Anna had been treated to lovely commentary about the blonde's opinion on every song. _“As much as I love this song, I'd rather dance to it than sing it, you know?”_

 

“God bless her heart, but at this point I’m about ready to fucking murder Gloria Estafan.” Anna Camp snorted. _I think you mean Vicki Sue Robinson!!!!_ Anna opened her mouth to say then swallowed. Just because she was in a bad mood didn’t mean she had to be an accurate asshole.

 

She’d been working with the cast for several weeks now, enough to be able to make a few pessimistic retorts without being considered completely suicidal. She wouldn’t consider her cast members her friends, but at the same time who the hell else was she suppose to talk to in St. Louis?

 

As if on cue, she felt her vibrating in her back pocket. She smiled at the familiar face covering the front of her phone as she slid her thumb to answer the call.

 

“Hello?” Even after all of this time, Anna still couldn't get over the way he talked. It was so...nice. She loved his tall yet clipped vowels. His pronunciation sounded proper but utterly crass. His voice was sloppy yet still tidy. Like spilt soap on a polished floor. It wasn’t so much him having an _accent_ as it was _him_ having an accent. It matched up so perfectly. His face and his voice. Like one would guess how he’d sound before he’d spoken a single word. Anna loved people like that. They made sense.

 

“Hey, isn’t it, like, one in the morning for you?”

 

Edgar let out a pitched huff of air. Probably a laugh trying to make its way through awful cell reception. “Midnight, love. It’s midnight. How was your day?”

 

“Considering I just spent an entire day singing _Turn the Beat Around_ , I’m gonna with _glad it’s over_.” she snorted.

 

“Sure does suck to be you.”

 

Anna smiled. “I know. Like, where’s my charity?”

 

“It’s being used by those God damn good-hearted people to help feed starving children or some other bullshit.”

 

“Despicable” Anna laughed.

 

“So how’s the bird who threw up in your car?”

 

“You are a master at switching conversation topics, you know that Ed?”

 

“Are you trying to avoid the subject?”

 

“No, I’m just saying that was a weird conversation shift.”

 

“Alright, so how is she? Still throwing up in cars or getting her business degree or... what. Gimme the 411 Anna dear. I wanna know.”

 

“Okay?” She squeaked through giggled.

 

“If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine. It was just a question-”

 

“No-no! I’ll talk about it. I have no problem talking about it  just... I don’t know ugh you’re screwing me up man!”

 

He chuckled. “Well out with it then! I feel like I’m missing out on some pretty serious gossip here!”

 

“Okay okay! Her name’s Brittany, by the way, and as far as I know she’s fine. Fucking irritating, but fine...healthwise? I don’t know what to say I just...!” She trilled her lips and sighed.

 

“You okay there?”

 

“Just a long... _long_ day. I’m fine. I’m just being weird right now. I don’t know why but whatever. Yeah. She like, feels the need to talk about every song in depth to me and it’s driving me nuts. She just...ugh she just drives me nuts and she keeps talking to me! Like stop talking to me dude!”

 

“How about the rest of the cast? They alright?”

 

“I guess. None of them really make my hackles rise-”

 

“Your _hackles_?”

 

“Fuck. You know what? Kay. I’m done talking. It’s your turn to tell me about your day.”

 

“Well geez Annie. When go to trouble to wrap your phrasing up in a nice warm blanket with complementary how I could possibly resist?”

 

Anna rolled her eyes and laughed, waiting for him to continue.

 

“It was...good? Fuck this is awkward. Face-to-face is much easier.”

 

She sighed. “I know. We should like, Skype or something.”

 

“We sound like high school sweethearts getting ready to go to college. It’s pathetic.”

 

Anna cracked up. It was true. They _did_  sound like high schoolers.

 

“I miss you, Annie.” And just for a second, she felt empty. Hollow. Fragile. Like she wanted to curl up and cry just listening to his voice pronounce those words. She didn’t like the way he said those words. He sounded sad. Desperate. Dry-mouthed. It didn’t fit him.

 

She missed him. She did. Not all the time. Sometimes she would go days without thinking about him. Or his smell. Or his feel. Or his anything. Nothing. Just days gone by. But then it’d hit her. The longing. The cold. The absence. It made her want to curl up into fetal position and cry until it passed while at the same time made her want to dance around her house and proclaim her love for him. It was weird. She was weird.

 

“I miss you too Edgar.” Her eyes drifted to Brittany who was standing against the wall down the hall, beaming at her. “But I should probably go.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.” she all but whispered before ending the call.

 

“‘I love you’? Who was that?” Brittany asked, her eyes began to pirouette, sensing ‘girl talk’. Anna grimaced.

 

“Just a friend.” she responded, smiling meekly.

 

“A friend? Or a _friend_ friend?”

 

Anna rolled her eyes at the blonde.

 

“Oh come _on_! Spill it girlfriend!”

 

Anna resisted the urge to stick her finger down her throat and vomit all over the girl.

 

“He’s my boyfriend. Friend friend. Crush. Whatever you want to call it.”

 

“Oh. How is he?”

 

“He’s uh... doing pretty well.”

 

“No no, I mean in bed.”

 

Anna tried to will the flustered blush creeping up her neck to go down. “Fantastic. Or, ace, as he would say.” she winked.

 

"Ace?"

 

"Yeah it's like, British slang for  _awesome._  But yeah, he's great in bed."

 

“Oh my gosh Anna! I was just kidding!” Brittany giggled, covering her face with her hands.

 

“Right.” Anna gave the girl a thumbs up to try to cease her hysterics. “Well, uh, I’ve got an appointment with...with uh...my...couch so I’m gonna skidaddle if you don’t mind.”

 

“Wait no! I was gonna ask you something.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Anna crossed her arms and tried to make her face look as neutral and unpained as possible.

 

“I was wondering... well, Jason said that I should dye my hair red, so me and a bunch of the girls were gonna go do that so I was wondering... if you maybe wanted to come?”

 

“Wondering if I wanted to dye my hair red or if I wanted to watch you dye yours or...?”

 

“Watch-come with me to do it. I mean, unless you like, wanna dye your hair red I guess.”

 

“No, uh, I’m actually okay with my brown hair. But uh, sure I’ll come watch you dye your hair.” Anna tried her best at a warm smile. “Who needs a healthy amount of sleep anyways.”

 

“Anna it’s 6:30.”

 

Anna pretended to check her phone. “So it is. But uh, yeah, sure I’ll go with you guys if you want.”

 

“Awesome!”

  
“Yeah. Awesome.”


End file.
